


I Left My Heart In Navarro Part 1: Suspicious Minds

by StellaDraco



Series: I Left My Heart In Navarro [1]
Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Age Difference, Battle, Curiosity, Dark, Death, Distrust, Doctor/Patient, Enclave, Fiends, Graphic depictions of violence - Freeform, Horses, Injury, Loss, Massacre, Multi, Not Quite Human, Secrets, Suspicions, floods, kings - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 15:37:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2552756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellaDraco/pseuds/StellaDraco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fair warning, I'm half way done with the full work at best, and I have 60,438 words right now.  This is going to be LONG.<br/>During a torrential rain storm in Freeside, Arcade Gannon finds and rescues a strange man on a horse, of all things.  The flood incites the Fiends to attack Vegas as the man recovers, and he assists Arcade in investigating what happened and then checking on the local Remnants to see how they fared in the attack, but the young stranger is not everything that he appears.  He heals much faster than an ordinary person, he possesses incredible strength and heightened senses, and he harbors a secret to rival Arcade's own.  But despite all the warning signs and suspicions, Arcade can't help but find the man charming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: This story adds in a wide array of canon characters as it goes on; the first chapter, however, focuses mostly on Arcade discovering Phoenix's main secret.  
> Although all chapters will be rated mature, I am unsure if this chapter deserves such a rating. Later chapters have graphic descriptions of violence and/or sex. This chapter is pretty tame.

     From the moment the desert sun finally set, the night had a strange feel. The air was less dry than usual and even as the skies lit with shades of red and orange, clouds gathered above New Vegas. Arcade Gannon, along with most of the Followers, were fully aware of the abnormality of clouds, especially dark clouds, and all of them anticipated that rain likely meant flash floods.

     As the first drops started to fall, everyone in Freeside sought whatever shelter they could find, many rushing into the Mormon Fort to spend the night under the Follower’s tents. That light rain quickly swelled to a near biblical downpour. The water fell so thick that sight was limited to about ten feet outside the tents. The white canvas sagged with the weight of water pooling on the roofs and holes were punched through some tents to drain the weight. In others, the canvas simply ripped when action was not taken in time, unleashing a deluge upon the hoards sheltering within. The parched ground fast turned to mud and deep puddles. Someone rushed out to open the great wooden doors and leave them open, lest the Fort become a pool as the water rose to ankle-height.

     Over the deafening susurration of the rain, Arcade vaguely heard Julie Farkas calling people into the tower of the Fort where she slept and he started helping to shepherd people towards her. The mud clung to their feet and many people stumbled or fell as they rushed inside. By the time all but the doctors themselves had been sheltered in the upper floor and stairwell of Julie’s living quarters, the Followers were too caked with mud to recognize each other.

     As it happened, Arcade was the last Follower to head inside to wait out the storm. Trudging carefully through the thick and slippery mud below the rising knee-high waters, he paused halfway to the door, glimpsing a dark shape barely visible to his right.

     Looming like a horseman of the apocalypse, a dark figure sat hunched atop what looked impossibly like a stallion. The figure shifted, looking towards Arcade and the steed, misinterpreting the shift in weight, paced heavily through the muck towards him. As it approached, the great black shape came into clear view and Arcade realized that it was indeed a horse. The animal was far bigger than he had ever expected them to be from the pictures he’d seen. It was strong, but it was also soaked to the bone. The dark eyes of the long black face were wide with fear and exhaustion and the animal shivered violently where is stopped, that huge, soft nose cautiously sniffing Arcade. The horse had its head lowered, but its back was nearly eye-level to him, Arcade estimated. His focus was torn from the somewhat intimidating stallion as the rider abruptly slid to the ground.

     His foot caught in the stirrup and the horse spooked, shrieking only to be drowned out by the rain. It leapt into the air, narrowly missing its rider when it splashed its hooves back into the mud. Arcade stumbled aside as the stallion nearly collided with him as it broke into a panicked gallop. The animal bolted wildly, dragging the rider through the deep water until the slick and semi-solid ground caused it to slip and careen into a pile of crates at the back of the fort. Arcade rushed after it, barely keeping his balance in the slush, and so he saw that when the horse rolled to its feet, soaking Arcade with the splash, it was alone. The rider was somewhere in the mud. With the rising waters and having been dragged by a horse, Arcade knew that the man was probably dead, but as long as he was careful, he trusted that he would be safe in the rain, and he wouldn’t leave the stranger out here, unconscious, beneath the rising water if he could avoid it. Even so, with visibility so low and his glasses smeared with mud and rain, Arcade doubted that he would be able to find the man in time.

     But luck was with him. An arm in a muddy black sleeve had been impaled on the splintered remains of a crate, which floated above the water, and beside it rose the long and slender barrel of an anti-material rifle. Arcade stooped to haul the man out of the water and separate the piece of wood that impaled his arm from the rest of the crate. He fell twice in the process, the second time plunging completely into the water, but finally he managed to lift the man so that his face was above the water. With such terrible footing, Arcade couldn’t risk pulling the stranger farther into the air, even if he could manage it- from the feel of him, the horeseman was weighed down with at least half his weight in gear. He started to drag the man toward the other sheltering people when he heard a voice call out.

     Julie had come looking for him.

     Between the two of them, they hauled the stranger inside and laid him out on the crowded bed. They got the water out of his lungs and, amazingly, he started breathing on his own. It took over an hour to clean him enough to tend his wounds. The man was young, very young. He looked twenty, almost half Arcade’s age, but he was also incredibly good looking. He wore a long and heavy black coat with a hood that had been up, no doubt against the rain. His hair was so long that they nearly mistook it for a second hood once the mud in it had dried. He was oddly barefoot. As strong as he looked, it quickly became evident that he was starving and severely dehydrated. His body was nearly armored with the leather straps that held his bulging backpack and array of weapons. The man was an arsenal. Neither Arcade nor Julie counted, but there must have been six different types of guns alone.

     Beneath the weapons and the heavy coat, the stranger wore loose and heavy black denim jeans with a thick, metal-studded belt. The buckle had been carefully shaped to resemble a horned reptilian face with tiny red gems set into the eyes. The glaring steel buckle was an effigy of the creature that Arcade suspected had once formed the leather of the rest of the belt: a deathclaw. Who the hell wore a deathclaw-leather belt? Ignoring the belt, he unbuttoned the man’s filthy and blood-soaked white shirt. Amid an array of brutal-looking scars, the man’s lean and muscular chest was marred with fresher wounds, some scabbed over, but most oozing blood and pus. Some were bites and scratches, Arcade guessed they’d been inflicted by nightstalkers, but the deeper wounds were burns from plasma and lasers. Most of the scars looked similar to those wounds, the doctor noted with a twinge of curiosity.

     Arcade cleaned and tended to the now infected burns, gradually working towards the scabbed and cleaner ones, and then the man’s arm. The splintered wood had narrowly missed the man’s artery, and it took a great deal of care to remove it without causing the stranger to bleed out. Arcade was glad for the need to focus; the handsome horseman’s leg had not only been broken, but shattered when he’d been dragged and Julie had to strip him almost completely to set and mend the bones. She didn’t notice the other leg until hours later, when a bulge below the knee caught her eye. At first, she mistook it for a tumor, but instead, she identified the mass as scar tissue. She was amazed that the joint could still move and wondered what had possibly happened to do that to the young man, although she noticed three long thin scars near the lump and suspected they might be related.

     By the time all the man’s wounds were bandaged, the sun was rising and the rain had stopped. The flood had receded a little, leaving three feet of water on the ground, but even that was gradually drying and soaking in. Everyone in the room and stairwell was packed in, most leaning against each other to try and sleep because there was no room to sit down. Arcade and Julie alone were seated, having practically collapsed in the narrow space beside the bed. Julie glanced once more at the patient, briefly making sure that all his wounds had been bandaged. She hadn’t bothered to try and dress him again, concerned that in her exhaustion she might not be careful enough with his shattered leg. It was better to let it heal a while until she was rested. She leaned back against her bed and closed her eyes, keeping her legs held tightly to her chest to avoid getting stepped on.

     Arcade studied the man carefully, reviewing his own work to make sure that he hadn’t messed up somewhere. Looking at the bandaged arm draped over the pillow beneath the man’s head, he noticed that the stranger had a small black earring set behind a mangled scar on his ear lobe where another piercing had clearly been torn out. Arcade had positioned the man’s injured arm above his head like that partly to avoid laying it across his injured chest and partly to avoid resting it so near the edge of the bed, where he was afraid he might bump into it. It seemed like it would hurt less this way, not that he hadn’t also given the man a massive amount of Med-X for all the pain. Continuing his examination a bit more hastily, he happened to see the silver chain of a necklace that had fallen behind the man’s head. Idly curious, Arcade considered pulling the necklace forward to get a better look at it, but he decided against that. He was too tired right now.


	2. Chapter 2

     They moved the stranger into a tent the next day when the beds and ground dried out a bit. Even weak with starvation, the rate at which the stranger healed was jaw-dropping. The wounds on his chest were gone within three days. Julie concluded that it had to be some kind of implant, though she couldn’t find any evidence of it. Arcade likewise found no signs of an implant, but he could think of no other possible explanation.

     The horse showed up a few days after the flood while the rider was still out cold. They set up a way to get some nutrients into the stranger’s body and then looked to deal with the panicked and starving horse. It had gotten injured somehow since it had fled and a few of the cuts looked infected. After a very dubious debate, it was decided that Arcade had the most knowledge of horses and thus would be the one saddled with the animal, as it were. It was lucky, he supposed, that the stallion was so weak with hunger, or he doubted he would have been able to get near it at all. At first it seemed sick, but slowly, very slowly, both the horse and its rider recovered.

     While the sick horse rested near the back of the Fort, it became an object of fascination for locals and passers-through alike. Even the few drifters who had been well beyond the Mojave, some even from places as far as The Pitt, had never seen the animal’s like. Arcade could understand their wonder. Even sick, the stallion was beautiful: all of its fur was a sleek, glossy black over powerful muscles and elegant legs. It grew accustomed to Arcade, even if it was still a high-strung, timid thing. It was a thoroughbred, he thought, though identifying horse breeds was never one of his strong suits. He’d read somewhere that horses should have the bridle and saddle and such taken off when not being ridden, so he’d piled the tack on a crate and tethered the horse with a loose rope. As long as it wasn’t approached or startled, the stallion was fairly content to stay in the area behind the tents. It seemed to understand words a bit, or at least it always perked up if anyone mentioned apples, so he’d checked the animal’s leather gear for a name, and found none. With the rider still out cold, he started calling the beast Umbra, and he found himself becoming attached to it. Umbra, in turn, became almost calm around him, and occasionally approached Arcade when it wasn’t trying to eat his research.

     Around a week after the horse recovered, Arcade was distracted from examining his latest batch of plant mixtures by an eruption of gunfire in the streets outside the fort. Outside the tall stone walls, screams and the sounds of panic filled the air amid the fire of guns and energy weapons. Max and Stacey pushed open the fort’s wooden doors and rushed inside along with a pair of wounded kings. The less hurt of the kings paused to fire his last bullet into the chaos behind him before he was shot in the head. The follower’s guards and Beatrice drew their guns and took cover where they could as the children and king fled to a tent. Umbra shrieked and tried to bolt, hitting the end of his rope. The panicked horse thrashed about, screaming and tugging at the lead. Arcade drew his plasma defender and crouched, peering outside the tent he was in. He looked out just as the first wave of drug-crazed Fiends rushed in. He could see a handful of NCR soldiers outside, backpedaling fast as they shot at the oncoming hoard. He looked away as the first fiend sank his machete into a soldier’s skull to find the same violence beginning around him. The followers guards fell fast, dropping only a few fiends each. Arcade liquified a fiend who had seen him and a dozen more turned his way. He kept firing, blotting out the violence for now in favor of survival. He was vaguely aware of Julie diving into the tent beside him. She took one of the simplest guns from the pile of the stranger’s things, which had come to occupy the top bunk of the bunk bed on which the man lay. It was a caravan shotgun. She knew very little about weapons and it showed, but the fiends were so numerous and by now so close to them, that the shot still brought one down. He’d been hit in the gut; he wasn’t dead, but he’d likely bleed out before they could get to him, not that Arcade was sure he wanted to help the man anyway. The chaos outside seemed to intensify and the ground shook with a series of slightly distant explosions. Arcade was too busy with the fiends closing in on them to care about the sound right now.

     As quickly as Arcade and Julie took the fiends down, more poured in to take their place, and slowly but surely, the tide of falling enemies closed in on them. They needed help. They needed help badly.

     As he was forced to pause to reload, Arcade heard the springs of the old bunk beds creak. He couldn’t afford to stop and look, but as he leaned out of the tent to thin the tide of fiends again, he felt a curtain of heavy leather brush against his shoulder. A deafening blast of gunfire reverberated through those in the tent as a dozen shots ripped through ten of the approaching fiends. It was clearly automatic gunfire, and it had stopped while they were still under attack. Arcade risked pausing his own fire to glance back.

     The horseman had woken, and despite his healing abilities, he clearly couldn’t stand on his own yet. Julie had retreated to find more ammunition for the shotgun and the injured stranger had taken her place, one hand clinging to the metal poles of the tent and the other balancing a gigantic mini gun against his hip. With his leg still clearly hurting him, the pain must have been agonizing, and that seemed to be the reason he had paused. He grimaced and raised the gun, this time shifting it to the crook of his arm. In that position, the recoil would probably break the bone, and Arcade opened to his mouth to warn the man as he pulled the trigger. This burst of fire seemed all the more deafening for how long it continued. To Arcade’s great surprise and relief, the man’s arm seemed completely unaffected by the recoil. In a few seconds, the fiends in the fort were dead.

     The stranger hobbled back to the bed and sat heavily, adjusting the gun before setting it down near his feet. He sighed, looking exhausted.

     “You were out for two weeks, I’m amazed you’re still tired.” Arcade was tempted to add a reference to Rip Van Winkle, but decided that men with arsenals of weapons and recently shattered legs might not have the best appreciation for witty doctors.

     The stranger looked over at him. Arcade was still crouched and when the stranger had stood above him with the mini gun, he’d looked incredibly impressive, unbeatable, even, but now he seemed so much younger and more vulnerable. He was about six inches shorter than Arcade and lean, although he was muscular and clearly stronger than he looked. His expression had been focused when he’d shot the fiends, but now he just looked tired and in pain. He sat hunched with his arms on his thighs, his hands dangling limply. His long hair draped his torso and knees like a dirty black curtain- the followers had washed it a bit, but daily showers weren’t within the realm of possibility. Sitting as he was now, the horseman looked as vulnerable as the usual addicts who came through the camp.

     Able to look at his open eyes for longer now, Arcade realized that what he’d mistaken for light green was actually an unnatural shade of gold. He’d only ever seen that eye color in animals. It was a little unsettling in the man’s otherwise disarming face.

     The stranger took several minutes to catch his breath while they all realized that the area had fallen silent around them. Max emerged from the carnage and wandered into the tent. The child was clearly overwhelmed and Arcade judged that he hadn’t yet been able to accept what had just happened. Julie beckoned him over as Max asked in a daze, “H-have you seen Stacey...?”

     Julie hugged the boy, not having the words to summarize the damage just yet. Arcade looked outside blankly, also having trouble taking in the silence right now. The stranger, watching them, but not understanding how much the silence bothered them, asked suddenly, “Who are you?” His tone was wary but not hostile. For the most part, the stranger figured that if these people were a threat, they would already have killed or chained him. As it was, he simply sought to know if they were just a scouting party for someone who would be a threat.

     Glad for the distraction, Arcade replied somewhat numbly with his name. “Thanks for the help.”

     Julie Farkas introduced herself as well as Max and explained, “We patched you up, you passed out and then your horse spooked, breaking your leg when it slipped and fell. We thought you might not walk again, but you heal remarkably well, you have some kind of implant, don’t you?”

     The stranger seemed guarded again. “N-Yes. Yes. Who are you with?” For a brief moment Julie looked confused, thinking he’d forgotten one of their names- they hadn’t examined his head, so it was entirely possible that he’d been concussed. The stranger clarified. “I mean what...organization. You don’t...you don’t look like members of any that I know of.”

     Again, Julie stared. The man didn’t look Legion and she couldn’t imagine someone else who hadn’t heard of the Followers. After all, they’d been thinking he was likely an NCR mercinary, given his guns. Arcade looked equally puzzled. He explained. “We’re with the Followers of the Apocalypse. ...I suppose we’re probably the last two Followers in Freeside now...” He looked outside again.

     The stranger followed his gaze and asked softly, “Who were those people? The ones who attacked you, the ones who smell like blood and drugs.”

     Arcade looked back to frown at him. “How can you smell that from this distance?” The stranger got that guarded look again and he suspected that he wouldn’t get a straight answer. He probably understood that feeling of having something to hide better than most. He sighed, “They’re the Fiends, from the looks of it the whole camp must have attacked the city.” His eyes widened as he realized aloud, “The flood probably drove them out of their bunker...”

     They sat in silence for a long moment before the horseman started rummaging through his weapons, drawing out the anti-material rifle. Both the Followers tensed, but he only used it as a crutch and stood. The stranger hobbled out to the strewn corpses and looked around, studying the fallen. He still looked to be in pain; he seemed to be putting as little weight as possible on the rifle, likely for fear of damaging it. After a while, he stooped and did something to one of the dead doctors’ white coats. Arcade and Julie said nothing, figuring that he was salvaging something of use from the dead. Resources being as scarce as they were, they didn’t care to stop him.

     “You know, we have actual crutches,” Arcade remarked, standing and stepping outside. Some of the tents had been burned down with incinerators and among the bodies, Arcade could already see that aside from himself and Julie, everyone who had called the fort home was dead. It was really a crippling feeling, and one that he had felt before. Julie stepped out and likewise looked lost.

     The stranger replied without looking at Arcade, noticing his shaken horse, “I’d really appreciate some crutches, thanks.” He hobbled towards the horse and added, “I...I suppose you patched me up, then. Thanks. Thanks very much.” He leaned on the wall and stroked the ebony horse, slowly calming the animal. “Oh, Vergil, how’ve you been? You been a good boy?” The horse relaxed and nibbled his sleeve. The man chuckled a little, “Yeah, that’s my good Verge.”

     It took Arcade a long moment to stow his emotions and do what he could to help. Ultimately, he went to get the crutches a few seconds after Julie recovered enough to start sorting the bodies and checking to see if any of them were still alive. Arcade had fully expected the stranger to leave once he had crutches, and he was truly surprised when the obviously distrusting man not only stayed, but moved towards the bodies and started carefully trying to sort them. It was incredibly difficult for him, unable to kneel and only able to bend down with great difficulty. Arcade was tempted to insist that he stop, for his own sake, but there were too many bodies for him and Julie to handle alone. It took the rest of the day, but they finally had over fifty fiend corpses piled on the most badly destroyed corner of the camp. They salvaged what they could, finding a little Med-X among the less useful drugs. They lined up the corpses of colleagues and everyone else along the northern wall of the fort, planning to bury them when they could. By that point, all three adults were exhausted; Max had spent the time in a tent, slowly coming to terms with what had happened. Stacey was found among the dead, her chest burned through by a laser. Julie started cooking up what little food had survived for a meager dinner and while she cooked, Arcade started out into the streets to see what remained of the rest of the town. The soft clopping of rubber and bare, calloused feet made him pause.

     “Why are you following me?”

     The stranger clopped up beside him before replying. “I thought it might help to have someone with you.”

     Arcade blinked at him. “Are you thinking I need your help because I might be attacked or that I need your help because almost everyone I work with was just brutally murdered? In the first case, I assure you, I am much more capable than I look.”

     The man shrugged. “So am I, but it’s not like I can help cook.” He did currently look fairly capable: he’d retrieved a plasma defender and some kind of strange high-tech looking spear that Arcade hadn’t examined yet from his arsenal.

     Arcade had to consider that for a moment. “Fair enough.” He started walking again and suddenly realized. “Come to think of it, you never introduced yourself, so who are you? If you feel like explaining why you were covered in energy weapon burns and why you act so paranoid, I’d appreciate it, but I understand if you don’t want to tell me.”

     The horseless horseman looked relieved. “Thanks, most people aren’t normally...accepting of me. I’m Ta-Phoenix. Call me Phoenix.” Arcade stared at Phoenix, but to his credit, he said nothing.

“Talon,” Phoenix explained, “My name is— was Talon. Call me Phoenix, please.”

“Talon,” Arcade considered, “That’s a...unique name.”

“Arcade seems like a unique name as well, not that I don’t like it.”

“Fair enough.”


	3. Chapter 3

The fort had been the worst hit in the area. Most of the locals had fled towards it or hidden, and most who had hidden had survived. The fiends had seen the fleeing and pursued them to the fort, where they were massacred with the followers and guards.

Investigating the attack, they found out something more troubling. Arcade had been right in his guess that the floods had forced the fiends to relocate, and apparently a similarly sized force had attacked Westside as well. At the same time, someone had blown up the NCR monorail and a large portion of the Strip, although the omerta was suspiciously untouched before a few frenzied securitrons, panicked civilians, soldiers, the casino families, and the remaining securitrons had brought the Strip into outright war. Some people claimed to have seen someone slip into the Lucky 38 in the chaos, but most people disregarded that as rumor. The NCR had apparently been lead to believe that House was working with the legion and they were convinced to attack the Strip at the same time as the fiends. As things had turned out, almost everyone had been killed. A handful of kings, two chairmen, and Arcade and Julie were the only survivors of any faction, as far as the surviving civilians could tell them. A several hour long check seemed to confirm this. At this rate, Arcade realized, the Strip was just waiting for the Legion to come in and take over.

He felt like there had to be more he could do to help and he would’ve stayed out all night trying to heal the injured and return some semblance of stability to Freeside and the Strip if Phoenix hadn’t suddenly collapsed as Arcade was talking to the remaining chairmen. The chairmen were unhelpful and the secretive young man was a fair bit heavier than Arcade could carry on his own. He dragged Phoenix maybe fifty feet before he had to sit down and catch his breath. He was starting to think that he’d have to go get the horse and come back when Phoenix woke up again.

Phoenix groaned softly, taking a while to sit up.

“Are you alright?”

He answered slowly, seeming a little dazed. “Sorry, I...I didn’t think that would happen. ...I guess I’m hungrier than I’d thought.”

Arcade remembered only now that Phoenix hadn’t actually eaten anything in all the confusion. His initial annoyance vanished completely. “I’m sorry. I completely forgot, you haven’t eaten in weeks...”

Phoenix nodded dismissively and got up, although his legs gave out and Arcade barely caught him. “Something you should know...” Phoenix began awkwardly. Arcade paused, waiting for him to finish. “...well...I’m...I’m a carnivore. I think I can eat a few fruits and vegetables, but I need mostly meat and most other things make me sick. ...I’d get meat myself, but, right now... I’m not picky, though, if you can even point me towards a radroach, I’d be happy...”

“And if I ask why you’re a carnivore, you won’t tell me, right?” Phoenix looked pained and Arcade sighed. “Look, I understand secrecy. I understand completely, but is there anything you can tell me about yourself?” He started towards Freeside, helping Phoenix along and hoping that some of the questionable meats that had once been sold there might still be available.

Phoenix’s handsome face shifted into a sly grin as he hobbled along. “Alright. I’ll tell you what I can about myself if you’ll tell me about yourself. Fair?”

Arcade hesitated. “Alright.”

“Um...well, I’ll add to this later, how about we just say what we can think of right now and add more tomorrow, just...continuing to learn more about each other each day...?”

Arcade frowned. “Are you planning to stay here that long?”

“Well...” Phoenix thought for a while. “I’ll stay here, if you plan to stay here, but...with the way this place looks right now, at least...can it survive like this?”

Arcade’s face fell as he realized that Phoenix was right. “Good point.”

Phoenix’s slight smile became a frown. “Sorry. You really care about this place, don’t you? I just mean...I’ll help you. Whatever you want to do, I’ll help you.”

Well that was puzzling, Arcade thought. “Just like that? Like I said, I understand not wanting people to know...certain...things, but you hardly know us, why are you going to help us so easily?”

Phoenix shrugged. “I’ve been helpless more than I’ve been capable recently, and you and...that other doctor didn’t...do anything to me. You could have, and you didn’t, that’s enough of a reason for me to believe that you are good people, and I want to help good people.”

Arcade considered that. “Fair enough.” He kept going, still half carrying Phoenix.

Phoenix fell silent until they reached the destroyed meat vendor. Arcade could see now that his energy was a ruse; he had been starving and exhausted since he woke. The meat was scattered over the ground and it was questionable in quality, but it was food, and with so little of that left, Arcade gathered what he could and gave Phoenix most of it. Phoenix sat on the curb, his legs stretched out as he ate. Arcade didn’t want to risk moving him and having him pass out again, so he sat beside him and ate a little as well. He hadn’t realized it, but he was also very hungry, and even the chewy squirrel meat seemed like mana from heaven. Phoenix ate with almost disturbing care. He carefully pulled tiny bites from his portion, never opening his mouth more than absolutely necessary. It was as if he was purposefully avoiding showing his teeth.

He noticed Arcade watching him and swallowed. He looked away hastily. “I guess I should tell you a bit about myself, then.”

“If you want.”

He ate a little more and began cautiously, “I was born...to the east. I think I had a large family, but I didn’t know most of them. I had someone that I thought of as a father, I guess, but things ended badly. Very badly. I ran, I met people who...did bad things to me, I got away, rinse and repeat.”

Arcade looked about to say something, but he decided against it. Instead, he summarized, “I was born west of here, I never had any siblings. My father died when I was young and I never got over it, and my mother raised me. Oh, and I like learning and reading books about failed pre-war socioeconomic policies.”

Phoenix grinned a little. He seemed a little sad from what he’d just said. “You might have told me a little more than equal information to what I told you, should I tell you more? Clearly we have to keep this conversation perfectly equal, lest one of us give away too much about ourselves too quickly and open the floodgates.”

Arcade smiled a bit as well.

They finished the meal and returned to the fort where Julie and Max had already gone to sleep in the most intact of the surviving tents. Arcade lay down on the bunk that was, for all intents and purposes, his bed. It was in a different tent and as Phoenix’s gear was in that tent as well, Phoenix stretched out on the bunk adjacent to his. They were both more tired than they realized after the days events and both quickly sunk into a deep sleep. They slept until dawn and Julie didn’t wake them, realizing that they had likely gotten to sleep very late. She went out to see the damage while they slept and while Max read one of the few books the camp had— a book about farming technologies, because they didn’t have children’s books here. Julie didn’t return until the evening.

Around noon, both Arcade and Phoenix reached a state where they could dream, and their dreams fit the state of the city around them. Arcade relived the fiend invasion, only some of the fallen guards were replaced with people he’d known from much earlier in his life. Phoenix’s dreams involved his own early memories. Even during nightmares, Arcade only frowned and twitched in his sleep. Phoenix slept wildly when he wasn’t dreaming, and as such he had become tangled in the blankets when he entered his nightmare. His face contorted into a snarl, revealing that his teeth were pointed reptilian fangs rather than a normal human dental structure. He whined, almost crying in his sleep and alternated between curling up as tightly as he could and thrashing violently against the sheets, struggling to free his limbs from the perceived bonds. Virgil pawed the ground nervously, sensing his master’s distress.

Phoenix’s flailing finally brushed the sheet twisted around his wrists against Arcade’s currently bare foot. The doctor woke with a yelp, jolting so badly that he fell halfway off the bunk. He lay with his legs still on the mattress and sighed as he slowly realized that it had been, more-or-less a dream. Phoenix’s distress continued, the younger man’s head now completely covered by his hair and adding to the terror of his nightmare.

Arcade gently gripped Phoenix’s wrist. “Phoenix!” He had to call three more times before the young man finally calmed down. Awake, he freed himself from the blankets, and rolled to his feet, backing into the camp beyond the tent as he tried to calm his racing heart. He was covered in a cold sweat from the dream and Arcade could scarcely recall a time he had seen anyone look more completely afraid. He also noticed that Phoenix stood easily without crutches and concluded that his leg must have healed by now.

Arcade sighed and got up. “You okay?”

Phoenix nodded, still panting as he slowly calmed down. “Nightmare.” He noticed that Arcade had been mostly on the ground and asked in sudden concern, “Are you okay?”

“I had a nightmare as well. I guess it isn’t surprising.” He gestured at the corpses in the corner and felt his heart leap to his throat.

Phoenix caught the gist of the emotion in his eyes. “Sorry. ...we’ll find out who did this. We can do that. I can help.” The statement was mostly inspired by Phoenix’s concern for Arcade and the fact that the younger man had just woken up and wasn’t thinking clearly.

Arcade started to decline, siting his dislike of vengeance, but then he stopped. The attack had clearly been instigated, and given the results, he could only conclude that the mastermind sought to see New Vegas under Legion control. There was no way that he could let that happen. “You’re right.”

Phoenix didn’t fully understand the reply because he had never expected it. “Um...yes. Yes, I’m right. Now...how do we find the guy?”

Arcade thought for a moment. “Well...didn’t we hear a rumor about someone getting into the lucky 38?”

Come to think of it, Phoenix did remember that. “Yeah, we did...let’s eat lunch and then see if we can get in as well.”

As he was feeling better, Phoenix insisted on going off on his own to get meat, and he apparently got it. He returned a while later, a little bloody, with a half-eaten molerat corpse. It was fresh enough that Phoenix helped set it up to dry, so it would last longer. Once that was done, they went back to the Strip. Since they’d left last night, bodies had been buried, supplies had been stockpiled, and the survivors had cleared out meager shelters. The vault had remained the most intact and that was where most people had now chosen to dwell, as if clinging to the memory of the vault’s original purpose. The Lucky 38 looked as sealed as ever, but as they approached, a Followers’ woman rushed over to Phoenix. “It looks closed, but I’ve checked the systems: the doors are unlocked, I just can’t find any way to open them. The securitrons all collapsed while everything went to hell, and there isn’t anything else strong enough.” She ran off again after saying that, apparently thinking that something else was more important than getting into the casino. Arcade remarked in sarcastic greeting after she’d rushed off, annoyed that she hadn’t even acknowledged him.

Phoenix looked back at him and sighed. “I wish I was that invisible. What was it about me that made her think I was the person to talk to about that?”

Arcade shrugged, “Well, we are heading towards the Lucky 38...”

“Yeah, but wouldn’t you be the person more likely to open the doors? I don’t think I look stronger than you do and I can’t pick locks or anything, do I look like I go around breaking into places?”

Arcade looked him over, again distracted by how attractive the young man was.  All his muscles, those wide shoulders, and that tight butt were thoroughly unimportant right now, curse his libido.  But he probably wasn’t interested in men, let alone someone as old and boring as Arcade. “You look like a drifter,” he admitted, “And drifters tend to know how to get into places.”

Phoenix considered the term. “I suppose I am a drifter, in a way. I haven’t really stopped anywhere since I left R—” He stopped himself and caught Arcade’s curious, almost suspicious look. “Since I left the place I was born.” He walked up to the doors. There wasn’t much of a gap, maybe just enough for a blade, but probably not enough for anything thicker. Not much place to grip. Arcade considered the doors as well, letting Phoenix’s remark alone, for now.

“It looks like we’ll have to get something between them, I’d be willing to bet that House kept these doors armored enough that no weapons short of a nuke can get through. If we can get something between them, maybe your horse can help us pry them open?”

Phoenix shrugged. “Maybe. He’s more of a riding, racing horse, I haven’t taught him to pull; he might not be very helpful...” He’d brought all his weapons with him today and he drew out a machete. It looked a little strange, as machete’s went, Arcade noticed, the metal was streaked black in places, giving the blade a strange look. It didn’t seem to be a standard smithing technique.

Phoenix threaded the blade through the gap between the doors and carefully ran it up and down, checking for any latches that might keep the doors from opening.

“They’re on a track,” Arcade remarked suddenly, studying the doors himself, “it looks like they open by sliding back into the walls.”

Phoenix nodded, taking that in. “Maybe I can pull them open with this blade...”

“I doubt it, but go...ahead.” Arcade trailed off as Phoenix, already pulling on the machete, easily, parted the doors. He only pulled to one side, so only one of the doors slid aside, but slid was not really the right word. The door flew into the wall with enough force that it jumped inwards off the track, bending the metal that held it in place and mangling the end of the door as it hit the wall. The screech and crash of metal was deafening and the whole tower reverberated with it for half a minute afterwards. Arcade stared at Phoenix, as did the seventeen startled bystanders behind them.

Phoenix brushed his hair back and chuckled awkwardly. “Guess I don’t know my own strength?”

Arcade swallowed and asked softly. “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me how you did that?”

“Implant.”

Arcade scowled at him. “Don’t insult my intelligence; I’d rather you just admit that you don’t want to tell me.”

Phoenix looked genuinely apologetic. “Sorry. ...I...I do want to tell you, I just...can’t. Not yet. I...I’m sorry, but I can’t be sure yet if I can trust you with that.”

That made two of them, Arcade thought. He wanted to tell Phoenix about his past as well, although that was more because he wanted to tell _someone_ about it. Arcade’s eyes widened as he realized that he didn’t even know right now if those of his old friends in the area were still alive after the floods and attacks.

Phoenix had continued inside and was quietly looking around the casino now. Arcade rushed in to catch up with him. “Hey, after we look around the Lucky 38 and hopefully find out what’s going on here, I’d like to check on a few friends of mine, just...don’t ask questions. I just need to make sure they’re okay, I can’t tell you how I know them.”

“Okay.” Phoenix smiled a little, a comforting smile, and he went over to call the elevator. The casino had been deserted, but the penthouse showed signs of a massive battle. Nearly a dozen securitrons lay scattered about, blasted to bits. A set of giant screens flickered in front of a window.

“Whatever signal these were getting, it’s shut down,” Arcade noted, “and I bet I know what it was.” He followed Phoenix over to a smaller elevator and up to a dark, machine-filled room, where the answer became obvious. A skeletal man lay mangled in a strange open pod. Between the machinery and the shut down computers and securitrons, this could only be House. “Well that explains it.”

Arcade stepped forward to see if he could find any sign of who might have done this. Finding nothing after a while, he turned back towards Phoenix. The man had stopped just off the elevator and he stood, frozen in place, staring at the machinery around him as if it was about to lunge at him.

“Phoenix, are you okay?”

“Have you found anything?”

Arcade hesitated. “No. Whoever did this left nothing that could let us find them.”

Phoenix didn’t seem to hear him. He was staring blankly at the ceiling, looking as if he might bolt.

“Phoenix, can you tell me what it is that bothers you about this place?”

The young man backed into the open elevator. “I...I can. Arcade, can we get out of here? Please? Right now?”

Arcade sighed and joined him in the elevator. As they headed down to the street, Phoenix calmed down and explained, “I...places with technology like that...bother me. I’m not a fan of dimly lit or tight spaces either...or being underground...” That description made Arcade very curious, but he didn’t ask, figuring that Phoenix wouldn’t answer. Phoenix fell silent, calming down, but once he was calm, he spoke softly, “Alright. Now I guess let’s go to check on those friends of yours. Lead the way.”

When he didn’t know where they were going, Phoenix was surprisingly submissive and quiet. He followed a short distance behind Arcade, moving almost silently despite the arsenal strapped to his back. As they reached the roads beyond Freeside, Arcade realized he needed to mend his shoes again and remembered that Phoenix was still barefoot.

“Do you want shoes before we keep going?” He found he was annoyed at himself for how often his own recent troubles had led him to inadvertently risk or cause Phoenix suffering.

Phoenix shook his head, smiling just a little. “I like feeling the ground under my feet, especially nice dirt and pavement like this.” He wriggled his toes in the dust.  He seemed quite content right now, almost stupidly so. Even so, Arcade found that simple happiness appealing, it was as if, despite everything, Phoenix was still able to find some happiness in this devastated world, and Arcade felt that almost everyone should learn from that attitude. One the other hand, the doctor realized, that happiness might just be because Phoenix had been through so many worse things that he was just glad for a moment when he wasn’t in pain.

Arcade went to check on Moreno first, mostly because Moreno was on the way to Johnson’s cave. Moreno answered the door with a gun, but seemed to relax as he recognized Arcade. He scowled at Phoenix, who stood back a bit, silently, as Arcade talked to Moreno. Both of them said nothing of the Enclave, although Moreno mentioned having had to drive off a few Fiends recently. He clearly disliked Phoenix a bit more than normal distrust and Arcade lowered his voice to ask why, hoping Phoenix wouldn’t hear. “I don’t like his eyes,” Moreno replied gruffly and retreated into his house, practically slamming his door in Arcade’s face.

Granted, both Arcade and Phoenix noticed a patrol of NCR troops nearby a few seconds after that. Most of the NCR seemed to have been wiped out and this group looked pretty beat-up. They seemed to be heading to check on the city. On one hand, Arcade hoped that they wouldn’t be able to take over New Vegas, but on the other hand he hoped that they might, in order to hold off the Legion. He sighed, feeling like the whole city was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“Sorry.” Arcade looked over to see Phoenix looking a bit sheepish. He hadn’t realized the significance of the soldiers.

“Sorry for what?”

“My eyes creeped him out, I guess. I...I should probably keep further back while you talk to people.”  
He seemed so helpless.

“Phoenix, it was probably the soldiers that made him close the door.” He was a little disturbed that Phoenix could apparently hear him whisper from that far away.  He'd been standing at least ten feet behind Arcade, and both Arcade and Moreno had spoken very quietly indeed.  

“Oh.”

“Let’s keep going.” He couldn’t say that Phoenix’s eyes didn’t bother him with a clear conscience. That yellow was not natural, but it still wasn’t enough reason to hate the man. Not that Moreno was exactly tolerant.

Johnson would be. Although the trek to Moreno had been uneventful, the walk to Johnson’s cave ran them into trouble. Phoenix took out the strange spear as soon as he heard the first yowl. He’d been staying quiet behind Arcade again, but now he ran ahead. Arcade took out his plasma pistol but didn’t have a clear view of the creatures ahead until after Phoenix crested the hill and the yowls increased in pitch. Coming into view of the fight, Arcade saw that the battle was already over. Phoenix held that strange weapon loosely at his side, catching his breath. The bladed tip of the weapon crackled with heat and Arcade recognized it now as a thermic lance, a very strange one.

Half a dozen golden geckos lay dead around Phoenix, all clearly killed by the lance.

“That’s an interesting thermic lance.” Phoenix looked back down the hill. From the expression on his face, Arcade could already tell he would be evasive about the weapon’s origin. Arcade sighed. “I understand.”

Johnson’s cave was as dark as expected. The absence of technology meant that Phoenix was a little more relaxed than in most dark, indoor environments, but he still wouldn’t go more than twenty feet from the door, and thus he lurked in the dark, barely visible with the light from the fire.

Arcade and Johnson spoke briefly. As it turned out, the old man hadn’t even heard of the fiend attacks. His cave had been almost untouched by the flooding, and he hadn’t seen any signs that the city had been in trouble at all. He seemed sad by it, but not surprised. It was like he saw such things as inevitable. He changed the subject after they discussed that.

“So, who’s this fellow hiding in the dark?” Johnson walked over towards Phoenix, grinning gently. “Pretty handsome, from the looks of it, I’m guessing you finally found someone you can talk to?”

Phoenix blushed and seemed surprised, although what part of the sentence had surprised him, Arcade could not tell. Knowing the younger man’s dislike of dark, enclosed places, Arcade answered Moreno before Phoenix could. “This is Phoenix, and not quite, but maybe.” He lowered his voice and added, “He’s a bit uncomfortable in caves.”

Johnson nodded. “Ah. It’s okay, Phoenix, I don’t bite. Often. Arcade and I are old friends, and I can assure you that the only mutants and critters in this cave are the ones I killed to live here.”

His tone was light and pleasant enough that Phoenix relaxed a bit. But when he spoke, he still sounded very uptight and Arcade wondered if he’d misjudged his attitude. Phoenix was clearly apprehensive, but it might be about Johnson, not the cave. He had said that he disliked the dark, but he wouldn’t even approach the fire. Arcade wondered if he was intentionally trying to stay hidden, which, after Moreno’s reaction to his eyes, made sense. “Thank you, but it’s not mutants that I’m afraid of. You do seem pretty nice; I’m glad you’re okay.”

He fell silent, keeping his back so near the stone wall that he was almost constantly touching it. It was as if he planned to bolt for the door at the slightest sign of trouble. Arcade couldn’t hide a little dismay at that look. Seeing that Phoenix, although trying to be polite, would not calm down, Johnson broke the uncomfortable silence, “Well, I’m sure you boys have things to do, so I won’t keep you. It was good to see you, Arcade, and good to meet you, Phoenix.” Phoenix nodded, almost bowing in thanks, but he also started backing towards the door as soon as Johnson had finished speaking.

Once outside, Arcade walked a short distance with Phoenix and then paused. “He probably would have been fine with your eyes. I’m sorry, my friends are...paranoid. That’s how I understand your secrecy so well. We have reason to be careful with certain... information.”

Phoenix nodded slowly. “So do I.” After a moment, he chuckled sadly, “Man, this is a bit crazy, both of us being curious people and having secrets we aren’t willing to share, but then again, I suppose I don’t really know how open other people normally are...”

Arcade stared at him. “...wait a second, are you saying that...that somehow you haven’t really interacted with people aside from me?”

Phoenix shrugged, “Well, not really. Like I said, there were the people...the people who did bad things to me, there were my siblings, and there were more people who...did bad things to me. Most of them didn’t care much for talking or getting to know me, and my siblings were never really interested in conversation. Most of them were more interested in...” He caught himself and fell silent, leaving Arcade wondering, despite himself. “It’s nearly dinnertime; we should eat. Do you mind if we stop for a bit before we continue?”

Arcade shook his head, “I don’t mind. You’re probably better at hunting, less chance of liquifying it and all, but I’ve got an apple with me, if you need to eat more than just meat.”

Phoenix shrugged. “I can hunt, but I don’t know. I’ve had to eat some vegetables to survive off and on, but I think I only really need meat. Thank you.”

Arcade nodded. “I’ll start a fire on the ridge up there and I can cook what you bring back.” Phoenix nodded and set off. About half an hour after he had left, Arcade heard some rather worrying roars nearby and then silence. A little tense after that, he watched the darkness, growing steadily more worried, until Phoenix emerged from the gloom, the carcass of a starved bighorner calf under one arm. Arcade set down his plasma defender and helped Phoenix prepare the meat.

“I heard roars, are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just some deathclaws.” Seeing Arcade’s concern, he added, “Most of them were blind anyway, I scared them off no problem.”

Arcade paused halfway through turning the spit. “You scared off deathclaws?”

Phoenix frowned and nodded. “...yeah. There are a couple different ways to do it; it’s easy.”

Arcade felt a shiver run up his spine and ignored it. After that, Phoenix seemed uncomfortable and they ate in silence. They ended up camping out on that ridge, and the night was uneventful. At first they heard coyotes howling and geckos moving about in the darkness beyond the light of the fire, but the area quieted down after an hour or so. Arcade tried not to connect the sudden peace to Phoenix having stepped aside briefly to relieve himself. He remembered reading that animals avoided the scent of more dangerous predators, and anyone who could chase off deathclaws... But no, the thought was absurd, there was no way that this socially awkward and paranoid man could...but then again, his eyes were that odd, feral yellow...


	4. Chapter 4

     Arcade slept uneasily and Phoenix had nightmares as well. He was already packing up by the time the rising sun woke Arcade from another bad dream. They were on the road again within an hour and they reached Westside at noon. Even from a distance, it was clear that the town had fared even worse than Freeside. The wreckage of the town had been cleared only enough to access the farms and bury the dead. They met a child on the way in and he explained when they asked. Five people had survived the attack: Mean-Son-of-a-Bitch, Tom Anderson, and Judah Kreger, as well as the child and his mother. The five of them had barricaded themselves in the cistern and between them all, they’d managed to keep the fiends at bay. The boy remarked in wonder that he’d never imagined that Judah was so good with energy weapons, or so good at getting everyone to work together well. Phoenix was starting to notice a pattern now and it worried him. He still followed Arcade over to Judah, who was sitting near the farms with a plasma rifle in case the fiends returned.   
     Judah nodded at Arcade and greeted him.  
     “I’m glad you’re okay.” Arcade remarked, “Do you need any help?”  
      Judah laughed grimly, “This is Westside, Arcade, we always need help, but nothing too urgent as long as the fiends don’t come back.” He noticed Phoenix and looked over at him. “What’s your name, son?”  
      Phoenix seemed a bit surprised at having been addressed, but he stepped forward a little. He held his head tilted down, trying to conceal his eyes. “I’m Ta-Phoenix.” He saw Judah’s confusion and explained, “I’m Phoenix, but my name used to be Talon.” Judah’s expression became strangely guarded.  
      “Arcade, I’d like to speak to you privately for a moment.” Phoenix could think of no reason for such a reaction beyond his eyes. Judah must have just noticed them, he concluded. He backed off, trying to hide how hurt he was. At least Arcade didn’t hate him for his eye color. But maybe they were right to, Phoenix thought sadly, maybe everyone should hate him, after all, what if he really was a monster?  
      Judah led Arcade into the cistern briefly. As soon as the door was closed, he snapped. “Do you realize what you’re traveling with?!”  
      Arcade frowned. “What do you mean?” He’d have replied a bit more angrily if this hadn’t been Judah and if Judah hadn’t looked so...shaken. It scared him.  
      “That...thing...Talon...is the most promising of the test subjects for the Enclave’s project WOLF. The east coast Enclave. It is extremely dangerous, Arcade, you have to kill it.”  
       “It? Judah, I trust you, but you’re talking like I brought home a stray dog, a rabid dog, are you even sure that Phoenix— Talon— is this test subject?”  
        Judah sighed and thought for a moment. “He fits the description to a T, and I don’t think that can be a coincidence, but you won’t accept that. You’re very attached to him, aren’t you? Have you seen anything...strange that he’s done? Maybe some sign of incredible strength or endurance?”  
        Arcade recalled the door, and the way that Phoenix had healed so quickly. “Yeah,” He admitted, “He’s done some strange things.”  
       “Arcade, he may look human, he may be attractive, hell, he may even love you, but that thing is no man, he’s dangerous, and he needs to be put down before he hurts someone.”  
        Arcade was silent for a moment. “Why do you think that he’s going to hurt someone? What was the goal of project WOLF?”  
        Judah was silent for a moment. “I don’t know the details, but it was near the end. The Enclave was making some sort of genetically modified berserking soldier. They built in a fail-safe so that if any of them went rogue they’d still be just as lethal. It sounded like it might be a contagion. If you aren’t sick, maybe it isn’t active, or maybe Enclave personnel are just vaccinated against it.”  
Arcade nodded sadly. If that was the case, then Phoenix would have to be killed, unless he could be isolated, but even then. “If it is a virus, are you sure that it wouldn’t also be released on his death?”  
Judah sighed. He hadn’t thought of that. “It would be better that Talon was killed and his destruction was limited. Even if the virus was not designed to release while he was alive as well, he’s genetically engineered to be a weapon. He can’t be allowed to live, whatever your feelings for him. I’m sorry. If you want, I can kill him myself.”  
       Arcade found the thought repugnant. “No. If anyone’s going to kill him, I will. Just...not in town.”  
       Judah nodded. “Okay. As long as you get it done.”  
       Arcade found Phoenix hunting giant rats in the ruins of the town. As much as he tried to hide it, he was visibly upset. Arcade had been steeling himself to talk to Phoenix, and possibly kill him, but that look made him pause. He couldn’t live with himself if he killed Phoenix like this. Virus or no virus, he had to hear Phoenix’s side of things first. Maybe somehow this was all a case of mistaken identity, but he doubted that.  
      “Phoenix...” The handsome young man stopped and looked up, smiling a bit when he saw Arcade. Arcade felt his voice crack and it took him a moment to be able to speak. Phoenix frowned at that, looking worried. “Phoenix, I need you to tell me about your past, we can go out of town if you want, but I need to know. I...I’ll tell you about my past too, if you want, but there’s something I need to know about you as soon as possible.”  
        Phoenix stared at him. “Why?”  
       “My friend said some things about you and I need to know if they’re true.”  
        Phoenix looked sad. “Okay. But not here. Somewhere...alone.”  
        Arcade led Phoenix out of the town and south until they reached an abandoned camp. By now the sun was setting and Arcade sat down. “How about we camp here for the night and we can talk after dinner?”  
        Phoenix agree quietly and brought them back a coyote, which they ate in silence, each steeling himself to discuss his past and Arcade bracing for the possibility that he might have to kill Phoenix.  
“I was born in Navarro.” Arcade began when the meal was done. “My father was an officer in the Enclave, the remnants of the pre-war government, my friends are his former squad-mates.”  
Phoenix looked almost betrayed by that statement alone. “You’re with the Enclave?”  
         “I’d rather say that I’m with the Followers, but I was with the Enclave for a while. They’re mostly gone now, or at least no one that I know has heard from the command in a long time.”  
Phoenix thought for a moment as he scratched the side of his neck. He had a slight grimace and Arcade noticed with a twinge of concern that Phoenix’s teeth were fangs. “I was born in Raven Rock,” Phoenix explained slowly, “I don’t know how many of us there were, but the Enclave created at least a dozen of whatever I am. We each looked a bit different, but I looked the most human and for that they said that I was the most successful. I guess they had intended us to pass as humans for some purpose, but they trained us all as soldiers. My brother was better than me at that, they called him Brutus. I still don’t know exactly what happened, but I think they put us in stasis for a while. The man in charge of the project- the man I thought of sort of as a father, I suppose— he was the one who put us all in stasis. I don’t know how long we were in there, but at some point these other people woke us up. They never said who they were and they looked like Enclave people with the tech they used, but I don’t think they were. My siblings all thought they were Enclave, though, and they did whatever they said, but at the time, I still felt loyal to the Enclave, and I felt like these people were just using our loyalty. I asked them who they were a few times and they just ignored me, not that most Enclave personnel really answered my questions either. Anyway, they sent me on this mission once to scout this nearby town and attack a merchant selling energy weapons. They sent Brutus with me. I got there and I saw the man and...he seemed nice. He was just sitting there talking to this kid, his daughter, I guess, and he wasn’t hurting anyone. I...I couldn’t do it. I tried to talk Brutus out of it, but he said that I was a traitor and killed the guy anyway before trying to subdue me so he could drag me back to the base. I managed to fend him off and ran away. I camped after a day and sort of figured things out from there for a while. I stayed nearby and avoided everyone for a few weeks. I watched the town from a distance, but I was too afraid to get close and I didn’t know if they’d recognize that I wasn’t human anyway. The people who took over the base, however, soon realized that I was still in the area and they sent Brutus to find me. I think he took it personally that I’d gotten away from him and he really laid into me in his attempt to drag me back. At least I think that he was trying to take me back; He might have...might have just been there to kill me. I don’t know. I didn’t really think he’d listen if I bothered to ask. I think he nearly killed me, but I’ve thought that I was going to die before, so maybe not.  
“I...I had to kill him to get away, and I barely made it. I ran again, just heading west because I was facing west and it was away from the base. Eventually I found some people and tried to talk to them and they attacked me, I found some more and they tried to take me captive, and then I found some folks in power armor who tried to kill me with energy weapons but only after they got a good look at me. I think it was when they saw my eyes, or maybe my teeth. I found my way out here eventually some time after that. The energy weapon guys had come after me and I thought that brick place looked like a good spot to hunker down for a while in the rain.”  
       Arcade was quiet for a long moment and Phoenix waited nervously for him to say something. “And the horse? Is there anything else you know about what you are?”  
       “I think horses were a pet project of one of the Enclave scientists. I heard the man who created me and my siblings talking about someone gathering their own resources to clone and modify horses from ancient DNA. I guess they had to be big to carry power armor. They wanted to put them to use, so they sent me and Brutus out with a pair when we were scouting. I guess they thought it was faster. I became attached to Vergil and I kept him alive. ...I guess he was sort of my only friend for most of my life.” He paused again and then added, “As for myself, well, I know that my siblings and I are carnivores, I know that most of my brothers look...reptilian. Sort of...sort of like...deathclaws...but that’s just coincidence, I hope. Probably isn’t, but...even so...” He swallowed and continued. “We heal much faster than humans, I think. Most of the time we’re a lot more...durable than humans. The permanent damage to my knee happened when Brutus tried to tear my leg off, and he nearly succeeded. Most of the time I like to think that nothing short of a howitzer can hurt me, and certainly it seems that nothing short of my brother can kill me.” He paused again. “Believe me, I’ve...studied my own near-invincibility. Also, every poison I’ve tried hasn’t done more than make me as sick as if I ate bread, if that’s something you want to know.” His tone was grim enough that Arcade suspected something that disturbed him.  
        “Phoenix...are you saying that you’re suicidal?”  
         Phoenix shrugged. “Not right now, but I was for a while. If I hadn’t been worried about Vergil, I would have probably gone back to the base in the hopes that one of my other siblings might kill me. As it was, I tried pretty hard, but apparently I’m really tough to kill.” He smiled a little, “But I think I might be better now.”  
         Arcade stared at him for a long time, absolutely certain that he couldn’t kill the man now. “Is there any reason you know of that would make you dangerous? I mean...is there any reason that you would hurt good people, people who haven’t already tried to hurt you?”  
Phoenix thought for a moment. “First off, you seem to explain things...slowly, around me, so I just wanted to clarify: I may be part deathclaw, but I’m not stupid. A lot of the time I may become a little...inarticulate, but I understand quite a bit. As for if I’m dangerous...” He hesitated and considered Arcade. He didn’t want to seem like more of a monster than he was, and he was afraid. “I don’t know of anything that might make me dangerous to innocent people,” Phoenix lied.  
“Good,” Arcade replied, although he was worried about the idea of a virus, “and sorry about talking down to you a bit.” He thought for a long moment. “Phoenix, Judah recognized you. He’d heard of the project and he told me that something was put in you to ensure that even if you tried to be peaceful, you would have to kill. We think it was some kind of virus. I’m sorry, Phoenix, but you need to keep yourself isolated from...people. Is there anywhere you know of that you could live on your own?”  
         Phoenix paused and shook his head. “No. But...I can...communicate with deathclaws. I can live among them and they pose no threat to me, but they would keep people away, keep me...quarantined.”  
         “There are deathclaws south of here along the main road. You can get Vergil and head there.”  
         Phoenix shook his head. “No, keep Vergil safe. They’d eat him alive. But...would you walk some of the way with me? At least...at least until I can see them?” The loneliness bothered him,          Arcade realized sadly, but there was nothing either of them could do about it, if Phoenix carried a virus, he was too dangerous to live around other people.  
         “...alright. I’ll take good care of Vergil when I return to the fort, he’ll be safe.” A thought struck Arcade and he asked softly, “Were you referencing Dante’s Inferno with the name?”  
Phoenix nodded. “I’m not surprised that you’ve read it, you always struck me as a bit of a polymath.”  
          “I’m flattered. But Dante’s Inferno isn’t exactly high learning, although it is a classic. There are smarter people out there than me.”  
           “Not many, at least not that I’ve seen.” Phoenix smiled in an odd sort of way and seemed about to add something, although he decided against it.  
           “What?”  
           “Nothing. I guess we should get some rest, the sooner I’m isolated, the better.”  
           Both of them had more nightmares than usual that night. Phoenix was awake and lying on his back, thinking, when Arcade awoke. Arcade could think of nothing to say to the younger man. They ate, packed, and set out all in near total silence. Both of them were pained by what had to happen and neither had words to make it seem right. Neither of them really knew how pained the other was and neither of them voiced their pain to the other. They both thought that would make things worse and it might have.


End file.
